ging the cheques. Would it gratify you to look through her
letters?'

'I believe you.'

'Not quite, I fancy. Look at me again and say it.'

He raised her head gently.

'Yes, I believe you--it was very silly.'

'It was. The only piece of downright feminine foolishness I ever knew
you guilty of. But when did it begin?'

Alma had become strangely quiet. She spoke in a low, tired voice, and
sat with head turned aside, resting against the back of the chair; her
face was expressionless, her eyelids drooped. Rolfe had to repeat his
question.

'I hardly know,' she replied. 'It must have been when my illness was
coming on.'

'So I should think. It was sheer frenzy. And now that it's over, have
you still any prejudice against Mrs. Abbott?'

'No.'

The syllable fell idly from her lips.

'You are tired, dear. All this sound and fury has been too much for
you. Lie down on the sofa till dinner-time.'

She allowed him to lead her across the room, and lay down as he wished.
To his kiss upon her forehead she made no response, but closed her eyes
and was very still. Harvey seated himself at his desk, and opened two
or three unimportant letters which had arrived this morning. To one of
them he wrote an answer. Turning presently to glance at Alma, he saw
that she had not stirred, and when he leaned towards her, the sound of
her breathing told him that she was asleep.

He meditated on Woman.

A quarter of an hour before dinner-time he left the room; on his
return, when the meal was ready, he found Alma still sleeping, and so
soundly that it seemed wrong to wake her. As rays of sunset had begun
to fall into the room, he drew the blind, then quietly went out, and
had dinner by himself.

At ten o'clock Alma still slept. Using a closely-shaded lamp, Harvey
sat in the room with her and read--or seemed to read; for ever and
again his eyes strayed to the still figure, and his thoughts wandered
over all he knew of Alma's life. He wished he knew more, that he might
better understand her. Of her childhood, her early maidenhood, what
conception had he? Yet he and she were _one_--so said the creeds. And
Harvey laughed to himself, a laugh more of melancholy than of derision.

The clock ticked on; it was near to eleven. Then Alma stirred, raised
herself, and looked towards the light.

'Harvey----? Have I been asleep so long?'

'Nearly five hours.'

'Oh! That was last night----'

'You mean, you had no sleep?'

'Didn't close m